


Spot Realizes

by here_comes_the_moose



Series: Newsies Modern AU [1]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Airsickness, Caring Race, Dance Instructor Racetrack Higgins, Fear of Flying, Good Boyfriend Race, Lawyer Spot Conlon, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Spot realizes he wants to marry Race, engagement ring shopping, first time on an airplane
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 04:17:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15677844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/here_comes_the_moose/pseuds/here_comes_the_moose
Summary: They would have driven up to Maine like how they always did for Crutchie and Jack's Labor Day barbecue, but since Spot needed to be back on Tuesday morning for an important case, Race suggested they fly up to Maine. Spot never realized flying would be a problem, but god was he wrong.Luckily, he has Race there to care for him, making him realize something about his feelings for Race.He wants to spend the rest of his life with him.





	Spot Realizes

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really bad at writing like how the Newsies speak, so I'm just writing the way that I write normally, so just imagine them speaking like how they speak.

"I don't know if we'll be able to go to Jack and Crutchie's this year," Spot sighs as he walks through the door and puts down his briefcase before walking over to kiss Race, who, from the looks of it, had just showered and was starting to cook dinner.

"Why do you say that?" Race asks as he pours some garlic into the pot.

"Remember that case I was telling you about the other day?" Spot asks, pouring himself and Race a glass of wine.

"The one with the woman who killed her husband?" Race asks as he stirs the pasta. 

"Yeah, that one," Spot replies. "Well, today they changed the court date to Tuesday morning at eight, so we won't be able to drive back like how we usually do. I'll let Jack know after dinner."

"Wait, just because you have the court date doesn't mean we can't go," Race says. "We could just fly up to Maine, since it's less than a two hour flight. That way, you won't miss it and you'll be back in time for the case."

Spot hesitated. He had never been on an airplane before; when he and Jack were younger they went on trips with Medda, but they were pretty much always road trips, except that one time when they were fourteen and Medda won a a cruise trip to the Bahamas where Jack was extremely sick the whole trip so they never went on a cruise again. And then he didn't go far for college or law school, so he was able to just drive or take the train, since an airplane wasn't really necessary to get to 116th street or Cambridge, Massachusetts. 

But, Spot figured going on an airplane couldn't be so bad, since so many people did it every day, so he replied, "Sure, that sounds great, Racer. We can get those tickets after dinner."

\----------------

Spot's starting to second-guess himself as he and Race wait to board the plane. Spot had looked out the window and although he may not be an expert on airplanes, their plane looked kind of small. However, Spot is dragged out of his worrying when Race grabs and starts rubbing his hand.

"This so nice, Spotty," Race whispers, smiling.

"Racer, it's literally an hour and a half plane ride," Spot replies, though he can't help from smiling at his boyfriend.

"Yeah, I know," Race says. "I'm just so excited to be going on your first plane ride with you. Maybe we can do many more in the future."

Just as Spot is about to say something, their group is called to board. He and Race grab their bags and get in line to board. Once they finally board, with Race excitedly telling the attendant that it's Spot's first time, they walk into the little tunnel-like thing and Spot involuntarily scrunches his nose a little bit. 

"Yeah, it's not exactly the best-smelling method of travel, but you get used to it after a few minutes," Race says when he notices Spot's face. "I brought some of that hand sanitizer you like if you don't get used to the smell."

Spot smiles at Race and feels his heart swell at how caring and non-judging his boyfriend is. Race had been on several planes in his life; growing up Race and his family would spend summer in Italy at Race's mom's family's house and Race sometimes needs to fly out to Los Angeles to give dance workshops sometimes.

Once Spot and Race take their seats, Spot can't help but feel a bit claustrophobic; the plane had looked small from the outside, but inside it's _tiny_. There are two seats on one side and the other side has only one seat, the aisle is very narrow, there's barely any legroom, and Spot can't even stand without hitting his head on the ceiling. 

"Since it's such a short flight, they use the small planes," Race says, sitting down in the aisle seat next to Spot after putting their bags in the overhead. "Do you need some of the hand sanitizer?" Spot nods and Race pulls the hand sanitizer out of his backpack and hands it to Spot, who accepts it gratefully, taking in the lovely scent of mint and eucalyptus. 

"Are you nervous?" Race whispers. "I noticed that you keep biting your lip."

"A little bit," Spot replies, never being able to hide his feelings from Race. "I guess I just don't really know what to expect."

Race holds out his hand and Spot takes it. Race begins stroking Spot's hand with his thumb, which effectively keeps Spot distracted until they start moving and the intercom crackles to life.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen and thank you for flying with us," the voice says over the intercom. "We will now be going over our safety protocol."

Race never really pays much attention to the safety instructions, since he pretty much has it memorized, so he just focuses on Spot instead. Race notices, however, that as the presentation continues, Spot seems to grow more and more pale, so he leans over to whisper in Spot's ear, "It's very unlikely for any of this to happen, they just have to say it before ever flight as a liability type thing."

"But there is a chance it _could_ ," Spot whispers through clenched teeth. Race doesn't really know how to respond to that, so they sit in silence for a few minutes until Race notices that they're about to take off.

"Hey, Spotty, we're going to take off now, let's look out the window," Race says, pointing out the window with the hand that isn't holding Spot's. He remembers how when he had traveled with some of his cousins or nieces on their first flights, how the take-off had been exciting for them, since they said it was like a rollercoaster.

As the plane engine gets really loud as the plane prepares to take off, Race feels Spot's grip on his hand tighten a bit before they start going down the runway and lifting off the ground.

"Spotty, look you can see the skyline," Race says, pointing out the window. Spot hadn't realized that he had closed his eyes, so he opened them before glancing out the window. The plane was at a slight tilt, so while he could see all the beautiful lights of the skyline, he could also see the river and was _very_ aware of just how high up they were. 

"It's so beautiful isn- Spotty, you okay?" Race asks, voice full of concern as he notices how pale Spot is.

"Racer, I need to get out," Spot chokes out, already undoing his seatbelt. 

"Spotty, the seatbelt sign hasn't been turned off yet," Race replies, furrowing his brows together.

"Race, I'm gonna puke," Spot says, climbing over Race and stumbling down the aisle and into the bathroom, leaving Race concerned for his boyfriend. Race undoes his seatbelt, walks over the bathroom, and knocks on the door.

"Spotty, it's Race," Race says through the door.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to take your seat," a flight attendant says to Race.

"Sorry, I know the sign is still on," Race replies. "My boyfriend's just not feeling too hot; it's his first time on an airplane."

The flight attendant smiles sympathetically at him before saying, "Oh poor thing. When he finishes in here, let me bring you a ginger ale for him."

"Thank you," Race says, smiling at her as she disappears into the back area of the plane. 

About ten minutes pass before Race hears the toilet flush inside the bathroom and the sink start running before Spot comes out, looking a bit worse for wear.

"Sorry," Spot says softly, voice sounding scratchy after getting sick.

"Hey, it's no big deal, c'mon the nice flight attendant is bringing a ginger ale for you and then we can go back to our seats," Race says, rubbing Spot's back lightly.

"Here you go, sweetie," the flight attendant says to Race, handing him a can of ginger ale and some other things. "I managed to take some towels and crackers from first class. And here are some motion sickness bags if you need some more. Hope you feel better."

Race leads Spot back to their seats, where Spot slumps down and shuts his eyes.

"Are you tired?" Race asks. "You can take a nap on my shoulder and I can play with your hair if you want."

"I'm just dizzy, but thanks Racer," Spot replies, not opening his eyes.

"Are you still feeling nauseous?" Race asks, frowning.

"A little bit."

"Do you want to try drinking some of the ginger ale? Maybe then you could try some crackers. I also have these wet towels if you want?" Even though he feels like shit, Spot finds himself smiling to himself at how sweet and caring Race is towards him. Then Spot has a major realization. _I want to marry him._

\----------------

Spot throws up a few more time before they land about an hour later. As they exit the plane, Race thanks the flight attendant (Debby they had learned was her name) while Spot awkwardly stands there, feeling more than a little embarrassed. They then go to the pick-up area where Jack and Crutchie are waiting for them with a sign that has Spot and Race's last names on it- most likely Jack's idea. 

"So, Spot, how was your first flight?" Jack asks as they start walking to the car after greeting each other.

"Remember that cruise trip we took when we were fourteen?" Spot asks.

Jack visibly cringes at the memory before replying, "Yeah."

"It went kind of like that," Spot replies casually.

"Oh god," Jack winces in sympathy. "Are you feeling okay now? I can ask Crutchie to make you some soup when we get to the house."

"Thanks, but it's fine; I feel a lot better now that we're off the plane," Spot replies. "I don't know how I'm going to get on the flight back though."

"I actually have something to help with that," Jack says. "Crutchie really likes boating, but I, as you may remember do not, but those dramamine tablets really help and so do those wristband things. We were even able to do a little boat picnic because they were so effective."

Spot smiles at his adopted brother. "Thanks, Jack. Also there's something else I want to tell you. It's kind of a secret, you can tell Crutchie, but no one else, especially not Race. I'll tell you when we get to the house."

Jack can't help himself from widely smiling, since he knew exactly what Spot was planning on telling him. Spot and Race had been together for almost three years now; they had met at a party the summer before Spot's last year of law school at Harvard and after Race had just finished his masters at Tisch and gotten a job as a dance instructor at a studio in Boston and had just hit it off right away. Then after Spot graduated, they moved to Brooklyn together and have lived there ever since, with Spot working as a prosecutor and Race working as a dance instructor. 

Jack is so wrapped up in his thoughts about Spot and Race potentially getting married, that he doesn't even realize that they're home until Crutchie taps his shoulder.

"Babe, we're home," Crutchie says. "Sorry if I woke you up. Spot and Race are already at the front door."

"I wasn't sleeping, Crutchie," Jack says, smiling. "I was just thinking."

"What were you thinking about?" Crutchie asks, stroking Jack's cheek.

"I think Spot is thinking about proposing to Race," Jack replies giddily. Crutchie smiles that smile he does whenever he thinks about a past happy memory, so Jack asks, "What are you thinking about, babe?"

"I was just thinking about when I proposed to you," Crutchie replies, smiling. "It was cute. We were so young, Jack."

Crutchie was right. He proposed to Jack at their college graduation and then they had gotten married a little over a year after. They hadn't really wanted anything big and fancy, in fact they were content just going to city hall with Spot and Katherine and calling it a day, but Medda had insisted on throwing a small party at her theater that had looked straight out of pinterest. 

"Oh god, Spot and Race are kissing, let's go unlock the door before they start desecrating it," Jack mock-groans, covering his eyes.

"Like we haven't done worse things," Crutchie laughs, getting gout of the car and walking over to the house to unlock the door.

As soon as Jack walks into the house, Spot pulls him aside and into the bathroom before closing the door. 

"Okay, so you've probably put two and two together already, but I think I want to propose to Race," Spot says, voice barely above a whisper. "I mean, not think, _fuck_ , I _know_ I want to propose to Race. God, I want to marry him. What do I do?"

Jack smiles before replying, "Do you need my help when you go ring shopping?"

"Hell yes."


End file.
